Chasing Love's Wings
Page 20
He just sits there watching me eat. “What about you?” I ask him.
“I’m good. I nibbled a little while I was making it. You’re missing a couple pieces of bacon.” He gives me a cheesy grin and I laugh.
Before I know it, I’ve eaten everything on my plate and drunk both the orange juice and the glass of water he brought up. “Do you want more?” he asks, hopeful.
I shake my head. “Not right now. I’m full.”
“Okay,” he says, then he stands and takes the tray.
“I wouldn’t mind some more orange juice, though.”
“Okay, I’ll run this downstairs and be back in a few minutes.” He leans over and kisses me on the forehead and then heads down to the kitchen. I want to go with him, but based on the breakfast in bed and his willingness to wait on me, I’m guessing he isn’t going to let me out of bed and, surprisingly, I’m okay with that. I look at the clock for the first time and it’s nearly eleven in the morning. Well, I slept forever.
Surprisingly, I didn’t hear Tristan come back upstairs; I doze off and wake up again just after twelve, and I see him sitting in my favorite chair. His back is to me, but he looks like he is reading over something. I pad quietly behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Jeez, babe,” he says as he jumps. “You scared me.” He turns to look at me.
“I’m sorry.” I laugh a little and he smiles at me.
“How are you feeling?”
I do a quick assessment. Breakfast doesn’t seem to want to make an appearance again, and I actually feel a little rested, but I could easily go back to sleep. “Pretty good I think. Whatcha reading?” I ask him.
“A script.”
“Oh, any good?” I watch as he scrunches up his nose. I walk around and climb onto his lap. “Well, I guess we should work on that, shouldn’t we?” He points to the coffee table. Sitting on top of it is a huge stack of scripts. “Or not,” I say, leaning forward to grab the next one off of the pile. I look at the title and toss it onto the couch. He laughs.
“No good?”
I laugh. “I nearly fell asleep reading the title.”
He laughs. “Well okay then.”
We sit there for a couple of hours, going through the stack of scripts. The ones I like, he starts to read through a little bit. He settles on two of them. One he really likes and spends a good amount of time reading. “Good?” I ask.
“Really good. But I can’t do it.”
I scowl at him. “What? Why not?”
He hands me the script and I look at the filming dates.
May 15th, 2013 to June 23rd, 2013.
“What’s wrong with that?” I ask, though I know his answer and he knows I know it, too.
“I won’t miss it, Cams. Not for a movie, not for anything.”
I climb off of the couch, stand on my knees between his legs and look up at him. “Did you see where it’s filming?”
“No, once I looked at the dates, I stopped.”
I reach for the script off of the couch where I left it and I show it to him. “I think you should sign this contract, Tristan. If you love the script as much as I can tell you do, nothing should stand in your way. Not me or the baby. Besides, I’ll be there with you.” He looks down at the script and sees the filming location.
“But the house won’t be done.”
I shrug. “So what? We can rent a house, like we did in Montana, and it will be fine. I’m certain that if I go into labor, we will be able to reach you and you will be there for it.”
He takes my head in his hands and kisses me. “This is why I love you so much. What about doctors? We live here, it makes sense to have a doctor here.”
I shake my head. “We can travel to California for appointments. Tristan, we can work this out. Please don’t throw away a good script because you think it can’t be done, because it can — without doubt — be done. We will make it work, no matter what. And...” I pause. “While I was struggling with myself about this—” I place my hand on my stomach. “—I decided that I need to make some choices — beyond me, beyond us, and beyond this little one. I think it’s time I start running the company.”
“Cami, you have more money than anyone I know. Your working is not a requirement to having a child.”
“No, Tristan, it’s not. But despite my father’s awful flaws, he did one thing right. He built a business, and that business was handed to me. I’d like to hand it down to someone one day. But I also made a promise to myself that I would not be my father. That I would be there for my children, no matter what the cost.” I take a deep breath. It feels good to finally say it out loud.
“I didn’t know it was possible, but I think I just fell in love with you a little more.”
I climb back up onto his lap and kiss him. “Show me,” I breathe.
He stiffens and I can sense the hesitation. “Is it okay?” he breathes.
“Tristan, I’m pregnant, not made of glass.” I smile at him, and the next thing I know, he’s standing with me and we’re walking toward the bed.
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“Prove it,” I say as he lays me out on the bed.
He smiles wider. “With pleasure.”
FORTY
******
Tristan
******
I crawl on the bed between Cami’s legs; I know she’s not wearing anything under my Ravens t-shirt, and just knowing that has me hard as a rock. I kiss her on the inside of her knee, then slowly, lovingly kiss up her thigh; at the same time, my hands begin slowly sliding up the shirt, up past her sex and her hips. My eyes follow the line of her body, and when she is lying flat, there is a definite swell to her stomach, and I love it almost as much as I love her.
I keep up with my kisses, but I skirt the area I know she wants touched and go to her right hip. I kiss it, then lick and kiss my way across her stomach, and she squirms beneath me; then she moans as I reach the center and then kiss and lick my way to the other hip and down. Her skin is soft and smooth as I kiss down her thigh, turning in toward her clit, but I pull back and go down her other leg.
“You’re killing me,” she groans, and I smile, nibbling a little as I climb my way back up her body, sliding the t-shirt higher and kissing up her belly to her ribs, just below the swell of her breasts. She tries to sit up, so I let her, slightly confused, but then she sheds my t-shirt, tossing it aside and lying back down. I continue my kisses across her breasts, sucking a little harder but avoiding her nipples, which are hard, tight buds against her barbells. Her breathing has increased and she’s anxious, but I stay slow and steady as I kiss my way to her shoulder, then her neck and her jaw, until finally my lips meet hers and she moans into my mouth, wrapping her arms around me, holding me to her. I pull back and begin kissing down the other side, drawing out the anticipation. Hers and mine.
When I come to her hip, I can hear her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, similar to when she’s about to come, and I know I’ve worked her into a frenzy. Just like I wanted her to be. My face comes right between her legs, and I use my tongue to flick her clit and she trembles. I do it again, and she trembles again. Finally, I suck her clit into my mouth and she stiffens, calling out my name as she unravels to my touch, but I don’t stop, drawing out her orgasm. Her hands fist into my hair and she holds me there, grinding her sex against my tongue, and I lick and suck until she comes undone again.
While I’ve worked the woman I love to two orgasms that leave her eyelids heavy and unwilling to open, I’ve damn near exploded myself, but I take a deep breath, hoping like hell that I can calm down. I haven’t been inside Cami for a long time and I want to savor this. I want to enjoy her, but I can’t take not being inside her anymore.
I crawl up her body and her mouth is on mine. She’s kissing away all of her own essence, and I’m not even inside her and I want to come. I gently line up my cock with her entrance and slowly slide inside of her. “Ah,” I groan. “You’re so tight,” I say between kisses, but her h
ips come up, hungry for more, and I can feel her muscles contracting, sucking me inside her, and it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. “I want to come,” I breathe.
She stops kissing me and goes to my ear. “Come for me, Tristan.” Then she sucks my earlobe into her mouth and I pull back and slide inside of her and explode, calling out her name. She doesn’t come and I don’t remove myself from her, which means I’m still hard as a rock. I immediately begin to move, slowly, in and out of her. Her hips come up to meet mine. It doesn’t take long before I feel her muscles tightening around me.
“Wait for me,” I whisper, and she moans. I speed up, and she moans again.
“Tristan, I can’t.... It feels too good,” she groans, and I’m almost there.
Her muscles clench and unclench along my cock and that’s it; I’m there. Ready to let loose. “Come, baby,” I say, and she comes undone, stiffening and trembling beneath me as she calls my name.
She falls asleep right after that, which is perfectly fine with me. I curl up with her and doze in and out. She sleeps a few good hours and I’m starting to get restless, thinking about dinner. She needs to eat, and she needs to get her strength back; I need my girl back. We haven’t talked about what happened in the tub last night, and it bothers me a little, but I think I have the perfect idea about how to do it and do it right.
When I get down to the kitchen to start making dinner, I call Beau.
“How is she?” she asks me.
“She’s good, been sleeping off and on, but she slept at least twelve hours at once.”
“Good, she needs it.”
“Hey, I called because I need your help.”
“Sure, Tristan, what’s up?”
“She said yes.”
“Yes to wh— You proposed?” I can hear the shock, but she squeals into the phone, emphasizing her reaction.
“Yes, but I know what she wants and I need your help to make it happen.”
After we hang up, I finish making a plate of Thanksgiving leftovers and put it on the tray. Just as I’m about to walk out and go upstairs, I catch her out of the corner of my eye. “How long have you been there?” I ask.
“Only a minute or so.” Phew.
“I was just bringing dinner up to you.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to eat alone,” she says as she comes closer to me. “I want to eat with you.”
“Okay,” I say and set the tray down. “Go sit.” I nod toward the breakfast bar and watch as she climbs up onto the stool. She is back in my Ravens shirt, but now she has on a pair of shorts that barely peek out from underneath the t-shirt. I put her plate in front of her and set about making my own plate. “What would you like to drink?”
“Tea?” She says it like it’s a question rather than an answer, and I look at her. I smile.
“Hot or cold?”
She smiles. “Hot, please?”
After we’re done eating she starts looking a little tired again. “Want to go back to bed?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’d like to watch some TV or a movie. Down here.”
“Okay. Everyone is planning on coming over for the game on Sunday. Is that okay?”
“What day is it now?” She looks positively puzzled, and I look at her.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve just been sleeping so much.” She laughs a little.
“It’s Friday.”
She smiles at me. “That’s what I thought, but you know. The last twenty-four hours are a complete blur to me. Well, most of it.” I watch as a blush spreads across her skin. I finish putting the dishes in the dishwasher and I stalk toward her, and she laughs at the expression on my face. “Not that part,” she says and smiles wider. I wrap my arms around her and hold her to me for a moment, and she just kind of sinks into me.
“Let’s go watch TV,” I tell her, and we go to the living room. As we’re getting settled I ask her about yesterday. “Is that the way you normally spend Thanksgiving?”
“What do you mean?” She looks at me, curiosity in her eyes.
“I mean with Mick and Beau. The girls.”
“Usually. Why?”
“I think it’s a new tradition we need to start, having all of our friends together, if for nothing else than Thanksgiving every year.”
Her eyes light up. “I think that would be a great idea.” She leans over and kisses my cheek.
“What about Christmas?” She squirms a little bit. “What?”
“Um, I...” Her eyes dance, and the glassiness of tears forms. “Tristan, I’ve never celebrated Christmas.” She looks at me. “At least not that I can remember.”
I fight my own tears. Sure, since my mom passed away, Christmas has never been the same, but I’ve always done something to celebrate it. “That will never happen again.” I wrap my arms around her. “I think we need to start our own Christmas tradition, and I have the perfect idea.”
FORTY-ONE
******
Cami
******
“I’m laying ground rules, right now,” I bark at Trinity. I’m standing in her office in Los Angeles, and she’s just returned from her personal leave. Tristan filled me in on her “personal time” and when he went to Montana to confront Bobby about what he did to me and it turns my stomach. Though it doesn’t take much to do that these days. Tomorrow I cross the sixteen-week mark of my pregnancy, and I’ve had to buy some new pants and have taken to wearing baby doll style shirts because hiding underneath is a bump that grows more pronounced with each passing week.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to know about it, and more importantly, anything that happens in this office stays in this office. There will be no reporting back to him.” Because I know you will.
“Cami, I’m not sure what you’re—”
“Trinity, I know you were in Montana with him. I know full well where you’ve been on your leave of absence, and I don’t care. I just don’t want to hear about it.”
“Cami, he’s gone.”
“Wait, what?” I say.
“He left late last week. He left the country. Said that he had to leave because too many people knew where he was and that he wasn’t sure about where things stood with the investigation, so he’s left the country. I thought you knew?” I shake my head. “I could’ve sworn.” She shakes her head too. “Maybe not. Look, he’s gone again, maybe for good, I don’t know. But it is better this way.”
“Is it really?” I ask her, completely serious.
“I think it is. Yeah, it’s fun for a while, but...meh,” she says, like it’s no big deal.
“Regardless, the same rules apply,” I say to her and then leave, walking down the hall to Vinnie’s office. I knock.
“Come in.”
I take a deep breath before entering. The last time I was here, so was Bobby, and more importantly, it was the day I ran away from Tristan, and I don’t want to get myself worked up like that again. I open the door and Vincent is alone in his office. Thank God.
“Hi, Cami.”
“Hi, Vinnie.” He smiles. I haven’t called him that in a long time. I close the door behind me. “Listen, I need to—” He stands to come around his desk and gestures for me to sit on the couch. “No, I’m good. I need you to join me, along with Trinity and the board members, in a few minutes. But I needed to come in here first. Listen, I owe you an apology. I should’ve never reacted the way I did, and more importantly, I should’ve never blamed you for any of this.”
I watch as there is a lost look of sadness in his eyes. “Your father was my best friend and I miss him dearly. Though I helped him, it killed me nearly every day. It tore me up for the longest time. Both because of what he did, but then because of what he was doing to his daughter. If I could’ve talked him out of it, Cami, believe me, I would have, but I tried and—”
“I know. But I needed someone to blame, and it was easier to blame you because I felt no attachme
nt to you. But then I realized I was wrong. You’ve been there for me, and I treated you horribly and I’m sorry.”
He takes a couple of steps closer to me, then pauses, then comes forward and gives me a hug. “I will always be here for you—” He pulls back. “What’s that?” he says, looking down. Shit.
“Um...” I take a small step back and place my hand on top of my mound.
“No way, Cami, are you serious?” His face lights up like a kid’s on Christmas. I nod and smile, and for the first time there is true excitement in my nod and in my smile. He hugs me again. “Congratulations.”
“Shh. No one knows, and I want to keep it that way. At least a little while longer.”
He makes a show of sealing his lips and he smiles. “I’m really happy for you and for Tristan.”
“Speaking of Tristan, did you get that contract on that movie we talked about?”
He smiles and nods. “I did.” He goes back to his desk and pulls a stack of papers from a larger stack and brings it over to me. “Take a look.”
I look at it; it looks like a bunch of legal jargon, but something catches my eye. Something... “No way,” I say, covering my mouth.
“Yes way. He’s climbing the big leagues now, girl.”
“Can I take this to him?”
“Please do. I need it back by the eighteenth,” he says.
“Okay, I’ll take it to him. We can courier it back as soon as we’re done with it. I’m pretty sure he won’t hesitate to sign it, he loves the script.”
“Have you read it?” he asks.
“No.” I look at him. “Why?”
“You should.”
I cock my head at him. “Do you have it too? The complete script?”
He goes back to his desk and he grabs a very large bound book. “Don’t open it. Take it home to him.”
“Okay.” I say, thanking my lucky stars he’s here in L.A. with me. When I told him I was coming he refused to let me come alone, and I can’t blame him for that.